


The Wedding Crasher

by MG12CSI16



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, No Spoilers, Series Three, Sherlolly - Freeform, Sort of AU, awkward reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MG12CSI16/pseuds/MG12CSI16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's got quite a bit of explaining to do. An AU of The Empty Hearse and The Sign of Three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding Crasher

Sherlock slinks down the alley as quietly as he can despite the fact that he’s been alone since leaving his brother’s house nearly half an hour ago. Although he’s clean shaven and his legendary coat has made a reappearance of its own, he can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that comes with being back in the city after years of being away.

He decides to sneak in the back, too many people could easily recognize his face if he simply strolled through the front door and until he got around to telling John Watson the news himself he couldn’t risk the news of his faux suicide becoming public.

The back door to the morgue has always been easy to jimmy, he figured that out quickly after Molly had adopted the habit of locking it if he had given a particularly harsh deduction the day before. He has it open in less than a minute.

For the most part everything looks the same, the lights are dim and the halls are cold and he feels strangely at home as he pulls at the lapels of his coat with shaky fingers. He looks down at the trembling digits and instantly balls them into fists in an effort to cease the involuntary movement.

There was no reason to be nervous.

_Ah but there is,_ his mind tells him. He swallows down the cottony feeling in his mouth and realizes his mind may be right.

After all, he hasn’t seen Molly Hooper in nearly a year.

For all he knew she had moved on and found a man who was capable of giving her everything she wanted and needed. He feels his stomach clench at the possibility but he can’t shake the thought no matter how hard he tries.

And as he turns the corner and pushes through the doors of her office he pretends the thought of her moving on doesn’t break his heart.

* * *

Molly Hooper’s office is seemingly empty as Sherlock pushes the door open and tiptoes inside. He huffs out a disappointed breath and walks to her desk with extreme caution, as if she would appear around the corner at any moment and give him a piece of her mind for being gone so long without as much as a letter.

His fingers brush the end of the wooden desk as he peers at the contents: several stacks of papers that need to be filed, an empty coffee cup with a smudge of lipstick on the rim, a sweater thrown over the back of the chair, and lastly, a photo he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of.

The first face he’s drawn to is Molly’s, smiling brightly with her hair around her shoulders and a bright red jumper hanging off her petite body. He can instantly tell it’s from last Christmas and he winces at the last holiday memory he has with her before. He scans the rest of the photo but his mouth quickly falls open in surprise as his eyes skim over the second face in the photo.

A man, nearly as tall as Sherlock himself with dark curls and well defined features, wrapping a protective arm around her waist with a warm smile. The resemblance was startling but at the same time completely unsurprising. He runs his eyes over every inch of the man before noticing the hand Molly had pressed to his chest, a brilliant diamond ring resting on her finger, telling him the exact thing he’s been afraid of since leaving her flat in the dead of night.

_It’s too late._

Sherlock blows out a breath, bracing himself on the desk as he fights to control his thoughts that seem to be running rampant in his head. Why should it matter that Molly was happy with a man that wasn’t him? He had told her time and time again how volatile a relationship between them would be. With his lack of experience and her undying want to be loved by someone who was seemingly incapable of such an emotion they would be doomed from the start.

So why, he asks himself again, does it really matter that she’s moved on?

Before he can even contemplate an answer the sound of the door opening has him spinning on his heels, coming face to face with a young man in a lab coat who looks equal parts terrified and annoyed.

 “What are you doing in here?” he questions, trying too hard to sound authoritative.

Sherlock just looks at him momentarily for signs of recognition but the young man doesn’t seemed fazed by the face in front of him, now he mostly just looks like the pissed off fill in that has to spend his Saturday covering another doctor’s shift.

Sherlock holds back a smirk when he realizes his luck and points to the desk lazily.

“I’m looking for Doctor Hooper. Any chance you could inform me of her whereabouts for the day?”

At the mention of Molly the man’s face pinches. “She’s at the wedding just down the road a ways,” he says.

Sherlock feels his breath hitch and he blinks harshly a few times. He looks back at the doctor and opens his mouth a few times before the words will actually come out.

“She’s at a wedding? _The_ wedding?” His eyes shoot back to the photo as the man nods and looks slightly skeptical at Sherlock’s reaction, but he doesn’t have time to say much as the consulting detective rushes from the room in a flurry of billowing coats and floppy curls.

He’s out the door before he even remembers to take a breath.

* * *

Luckily for Sherlock there’s only one church that’s holding a wedding today and he spots it from nearly a block away as he weaves through the throngs of people. Some of them shout and some pay him no mind as he pushes them aside and the thud of his boots is drowned out by the blood roaring in his ears.

There was no doubt he would receive endless hell for this. Why he couldn’t just leave the poor woman be like so many have told him is a mystery even to him but all he knew now was that he had to get to her before he lost her forever.

As he jogs up the steps he feels his heart beat erratically and just before he reaches the door he freezes.

Part of him had to see her, to feel her and smell her and hear her laugh. Part of him had to let her know how much he owed her and how important she was despite everyone’s doubts.

Then there was the part, deep down in the cold recess of his heart, that knew he should leave her be. He’d already put her through so much and doing this on a day she’s been looking forward to since she was a little girl, well that would be a very Sherlock Holmes thing to do.

Still Sherlock could tell that if he didn’t say something, prove to Molly that he could change and he would do it for her, he would never forgive himself.

So with a deep breath and a mind full of doubts he pushes open the double doors and runs inside.

“Molly, stop this please!”

 He calls her name with all the desperation of a broken and rundown man but almost as soon as he makes his entrance and her name leaves his lips there’s a collective gasp that stops him cold as heads begin to turn and mouths drop. He can tell most of the people recognize him but even those who don’t can sense the tension in the room.

Sherlock knows the smart thing to do is to assure everyone that yes, it really is him, and no this wasn’t some elaborate hoax cooked up for fun but the only thing he can seem to think about is Molly. Only, when his eyes scan the room for her he finds she isn’t the one standing at the altar.

In fact he has no idea who the woman in white is, mostly because he can’t tear his eyes away from the man standing beside her, and he feels his throat tighten.

_John._

Now there’s a strange mix of happiness and fear radiating through him as he looks at his best friend, who looks close to either fainting for completely losing his mind and Sherlock can’t decide what to do. The rest of the church is silently watching, waiting for something to happen and it isn’t until now that his eyes finally land on Molly, who looks confused and slightly embarrassed.

He breathes a sigh of relief but berates himself for it just as quickly, turning his attention back to John.

Somehow the doctor has found the ability to move and slowly walks down the altar steps, shaking his head in disbelief as if he was imagining this entire situation. Sherlock opens his mouth to speak even though he knows it’s pointless, nothing he says right now will make sense to John but still it didn’t hurt to try.

“John, I’m sorry. I had to-“

John holds up his hand, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Sherlock’s almost certain he can see tears in his eyes but he obeys and silences himself instantly. John straightens up and Sherlock braces himself for a scolding to top all scoldings but surprisingly, his voice is surprisingly steady.

“I don’t know how or why,” he says, “and in the end we both know it probably won’t even matter but just know that _after_ I marry my fiancée you and I are going to have a chat. A nice long chat, do you understand?”

Wordlessly, Sherlock nods which seems to satisfy John.

“Good, now sit down.” He jerks his head toward the empty seat up front beside Molly before he marches back to the shocked and concerned blonde waiting for him.

Awkwardly Sherlock makes his way over to Molly, sinking down into his seat and fidgeting slightly as all eyes are on him. It isn’t until John gives the order to the officiator that everyone actually turn their heads.

And even then, Sherlock can’t shake the feeling that he has quite a bit of explaining to do.

* * *

In the end he walks away from John with a bloodied lip and a thousand apologies that died on his lips.

Mary, the new Mrs. Watson, tells him things will work out and that her new husband just needs some space but it does little to cheer him up and he hopes the chat John had promised happens sooner rather than later. As the newlyweds enjoy their first dance as husband and wife he feels horribly out of place, guilt eating at him mercilessly.

It wasn’t how he wanted him to find out but his _feelings_ (he detested that word) for one Molly Hooper had seemed to take over and in that one moment he was blind. He knew now that there was no denying the attraction that had grown between them, even with hundreds of miles and more than a year of exile between them.

He swallows hard and finally lets his eyes wander the crowd the look for her. As soon as John and Mary had been announced husband and wife she had stood up and fled the church but he knew she wouldn’t be cruel enough to skip the reception.

She always had a soft spot for John.

It takes a bit of searching but he finds her outside on the terrace with her eyes cast downward. He sees her shoulders tense when she hears his footsteps but she doesn’t look up. Sherlock takes a seat beside her and notices her shivering in the mild fall weather. He shrugs off his coat and drapes it over her shoulders, watching her grip the fabric tightly between her fingers and relish its warmth.

“Thank you,” she tells him quietly, glancing up just in time for him to see how red and puffy her eyes were.

He frowns when he realizes she has been crying and ever so gently he reaches out to wipe a few stray tears from her face. She blushes at the touch but he feels her lean into his hand, the want that radiates through her body almost impossible to ignore.

“Sherlock, why are you here?”

For the first time since he’d sat down Molly looks at him, a thousand questions swimming in her eyes as she bites her lip. Shamefully Sherlock looks down at her hand, confirming his earlier suspicions that the ring was gone and more than likely had been for a while now.

“I came for you,” he says, watching her eyes widen in surprise. The emotion that had managed to drip into his voice was a surprise for both of them but he could tell Molly could sense the sincerity of it. Still, she had to ask.

“You crashed John’s wedding because you had to see me?” she sounds slightly incredulous but Sherlock nods all the same.

“Yes, I may have made a stop at your office first and found a certain photograph on your desk. That’s when I noticed the ring and when your fill in told me you were at the wedding I thought…I thought I was too late.”

Molly scoffs and Sherlock pretends it doesn’t hurt to hear her doubt him.

“Too late for what?” she asks sharply. “I’ve waited so long for you Sherlock and when you left I took it as a sign that maybe I should move on because I realized you’re always going to be married to your work and you’re always going to be the first to sacrifice for those you love. And I knew I couldn’t live if something happened to you while I was waiting for you to come back. So I moved on and I was happy with him.”  

“But you’re not anymore,” he says matter-of-factly. “You haven’t worn your ring in over a week and you came to the wedding alone. Mary was constantly checking on you because she knew you were upset and you drank more tonight than I’ve seen you drink the entire time I’ve known you.”

Molly opens her mouth for a rebuttal, the fire burning bright in her eyes but Sherlock doesn’t let her speak.

“I came here because I realized I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to someone else. It’s taken me a long time Molly, I know, but I need you. Others may not be able to see it but you are the most important person in my life, I owe you everything. And all I’m asking in return is that you give me the one chance I was too selfish to give you all these years.”

Molly stares at Sherlock in disbelief as he patiently waits for a response from her, anything to let him know he hadn’t completely ruined the relationship between them but for some reason she can’t seem to find the words. She had been waiting nearly a decade to hear him say the things he had but now that they were out in the open and he was looking at her with a desperate and pleading expression she didn’t know what to say.

So she does the only thing she can think of.

Gripping the collar of his shirt she crashes her lips into his, nearly gasping in pleasant surprise when she feels him kissing her back just as passionately and time seems to still.

When it ends she feels the blush exploding across the apples of her cheeks and the feeling of contentment settling nicely in her stomach. Sheepishly she looks up at Sherlock and twines her fingers with his, feeling the undeniable smile spread across her face.

“I’m sure you already know this, but I love you Sherlock and I would be more than willing to take you up on that offer of yours.”

This time it’s Sherlock who kisses her, a muffled “I love you too” heard over the happy giggling as he holds her tightly, afraid she may slip away.

And while he knows things are far from normal he’s at least sure of one thing.

He always has and always will love Molly Hooper.

 


End file.
